Chapter Twenty-Two #2
Clancy frowned at his words. Let all three of you burn? Luther shot her a look that said, “Still want to go with him?” Something was wrong. “I don’t understand.”
“Sarah told me not to trust anyone who showed up out here looking for you,” he said, the words coming out like bullets, hard and fast. “Unless it was the sheriff, she said anyone looking for you had come out here to kill you. I promised to keep you alive.” She was shocked.
That was the most she’d heard the man say.
She blinked, trying to understand. “But why would Vernon want to kill me?”
Sarah had known someone would come looking for her to kill her? Wasn’t that what she’d said back at the guesthouse? That someone would be coming after both of them. Now her boss from the rest home had showed up with a gun and was threatening to burn down the cabin and them with it?
“Why would he want to kill me?” she asked again, truly confused by all this. What was happening? “This makes no sense.”
Luther gave her an impatient look. “If Sarah’s right, he must be the one who’s afraid you can identify him as Esther Mason’s killer.”
“Vernon?”
“She said the killer saw you leave the rest home the night of the murder.”
“It was Sarah,” she argued.
“Sarah didn’t kill anyone.” Luther shook his head as if she should have been smarter than she was. “All I know is that I’m to keep you here and safe.”
Clancy stared at him as he moved from one window to the next, still keeping his eye on her as he did.
Vernon was the killer?
Not Sarah?
It made no sense.
Clancy had her reasons for wanting to throttle Esther. Sarah had hers as well. But Vernon? Why would Vernon want to kill Esther?
If only she’d never agreed to run errands for the mean old woman, she thought ruefully.
But here she was. Esther hadn’t even owed her that much money.
Even as she thought it, she realized that this had to be much more complicated than she’d originally thought.
Why would Vernon care about a plastic bag full of cheap jewelry?
A bullet crashed through the window, sending glass showering across the cabin floor. “I’m giving you one more chance,” Vernon yelled from outside. “A bullet is a better way to die than being burned alive. Your choice. I’m going to count to three.”
They could hear him out there opening his trunk and taking out what sounded like metal cans of something. Moments later they smelled gasoline.
* * *
THE ROAD NARROWED further as Dub drove deeper into the foothills and pines. Sarah had picked the perfect place to hide Clancy. It was isolated from any other cabin and deep in the woods. You wouldn’t even know a cabin was here, he thought.
His cell rang, startling him. The moment he saw it was the sheriff, he hurriedly picked up, hoping for some good news.
“Where are you?” the sheriff asked without preamble.
“Almost to Sarah’s cabin.”
“He found the cabin?” It was a woman’s voice in the background.
“Sarah says she left Clancy there with her cousins protecting her,” the sheriff said. “But there’s a chance the killer might know about the cabin and try to get to Clancy.”
“Wait, I thought Sarah was the one who—”
“How close are you to the cabin?”
“Almost there,” Dub said as he came over a rise, and there it was. “I can see the cabin. There’s a pickup parked partway around the back and a black SUV parked out front.”
“That’s the vehicle he drives,” Sarah said. “He’s already there!”
“Are you telling me the killer is already at the cabin?” Dub demanded.
“Don’t go any closer to the cabin,” the sheriff said. “I’m not that far behind you. Wait, I have a…bad…dangerous…don’t…Sarah saw…”
“You’re breaking up,” Dug said, but only got static in answer. He looked down the road at the cabin. He thought he could see someone standing outside. He knew he should do what the sheriff told him to, but his instincts said waiting would be a costly mistake.
As he drove closer, he recognized the black SUV—just as he did the man standing in front of the cabin.
What the hell was Vernon Vance from Shady Rest doing, standing out here holding what looked like a gas can?
* * *
THE SMELL OF gasoline grew stronger. “Wait!” Clancy cried as she leaped from her chair. Luther started toward her, but she waved him back. “Vernon!” she called. “I’m coming out.”
In the quiet that followed, she heard the sound of another vehicle.
She shot a look at Luther. Like her, he thought it was probably Sarah.
She saw the panic on his face. Sarah would have no idea what was going on until it was too late.
She’d wouldn’t even be armed because she’d given her gun to Luther.
If what Luther had told her was true, Sarah had saved her life by bringing her out here and leaving her cousins to watch over her. She’d been a good friend while Clancy had been convinced Sarah was a killer.
All that aside, Clancy knew she had to do something—especially if that was Sarah coming up the road.
She and Luther were trapped in the cabin with Abel bleeding to death on the porch.
There was nowhere to run. Not to mention, she was tired of running.
Running from her life, running just to keep moving, as if afraid what would happen if she stopped.
“I’m coming out!” she yelled again. Luther had stopped moving toward her.
He stood looking unsure as to what to do.
“Give me the gun,” she whispered. “Once I go out, rescue your brother and help him.” Luther started to argue.
“If that’s Sarah coming up the road, we can’t let Vernon kill her—and he isn’t going to burn us alive if we aren’t in here. ”
“Do you even know how to fire a gun?” he demanded, even as he handed over the weapon.
She glanced at the handgun and racked a live round into the chamber before looking up. “It was the one thing my father taught me before he left. Open the door. If Sarah is right and Vernon’s the killer, he won’t shoot me until he finds out who all I told about seeing him that night.”
Luther’s look seemed to offer her one more chance to change her mind. She shook her head and motioned to the front door as she pocketed the gun.
He hesitated, but only for a moment before he unlocked the door. Clancy stepped out of the cabin into the blinding sunlight to see Abel bleeding at the edge of the porch—and Vernon Vance, a gun in one hand and a gas can in the other, moving toward her.